A potential Banksy has appeared on Vale Street in Bristol, United Kingdom on December 10, 2020. The elusive artist is from the city and is known for creating new works without anyone catching him in the act. An image of an old woman sneezing without covering her mouth has been spotted on a wall in the Totterdown area – a possible nod to the current health crisis. Crowds are already gathering at the bottom of Vale Street – one of Britain's steepest roads – to take pictures and discuss. (Photo by South West News Service/Action Press)

Mirko Hanák was born in 1921 in Prague, Czech Republic and worked as a painter, graphic designer and illustrator. His specialties were animals and human figures that were full of life and fun. He also had a firm grasp on composition as his paintings were so well balanced despite his casual fluid line. He was working on “Charlotte's Web” the movie when he tragically died at the height of his career from leukemia in 1971.

A man takes a picture of part of what is set to be the UK's largest street art project on August 19, 2011 in Bristol, England. The See No Evil art project on Nelson Street in Bristol will see several multi story buildings in the street covered with art over the coming days. Organisers hope that the project, which has involved top graffiti artists from all over the world, will become a major tourist attraction for the west country city, often said to the spiritual home of Banksy. (Photo by Matt Cardy/Getty Images)

“This cheeky polar bear tried to hitch a lift off an unsuspecting driver by clambering into the back of his pick-up truck. The curious creature spent about half an hour inspecting the vehicle and its owner before casually trying to climb aboard. However, the truck must not have been up to scratch because the 7ft bear, weighing approximately 300lbs, promptly jumped back out and sauntered off”. – Barcroft Media. Photo: “Awright mate, any chance of a lift to the North Pole?” (Photo by Steven Kazlowski/Barcroft Media)

A female street art collective has set a new Guinness World Record to create the largest spray-painted mural by multiple artists. Over 100 international female street artists came together to create the continuous mural in south London’s Leake Street Tunnel, made famous by Banksy, on March 8, 2014. The record was broken as part of all-female street art event Femme Fierce, the largest of its kind in the UK, which aims to celebrate women street artists across the world. Photo: Zabou's witty graffiti. (Photo by Dez Mighty/Susan Mackey)

While communism, collectivism, worms, dry rot and casual looting failed to destroy the majestic wooden churches of Russia, it may be ordinary neglect that finally does them in. Dwindled now to several hundred remaining examples, these glories of vernacular architecture lie scattered amid the vastness of the world’s largest country. Just over a decade ago, Richard Davies, a British architectural photographer, struck out on a mission to record the fragile and poetic structures. Austerely beautiful and haunting, “Wooden Churches: Traveling in the Russian North” (White Sea Publishing; $132) is the result. Covering thousands of miles, Mr. Davies described how he and the writer Matilda Moreton tracked down the survivors from among the thousands of onion-domed structures built after Prince Vladimir converted to Christianity in 988.

In this Friday, March 3, 2017 photo, a ribbon on a staff member's outfit blows in the breeze as she arrives for the opening session of the Chinese People's Political Consultative Congress (CPPCC) at the Great Hall of the People in Beijing. The annual session of China's ceremonial legislature is designed to awe onlookers with its size and sweep, yet the experience is also made up of tiny moments, details that point to the personalities of the participants and the event's unique, sometimes quirky, traits that a casual observer might easily miss. (Photo by Mark Schiefelbein/AP Photo)

While communism, collectivism, worms, dry rot and casual looting failed to destroy the majestic wooden churches of Russia, it may be ordinary neglect that finally does them in. Dwindled now to several hundred remaining examples, these glories of vernacular architecture lie scattered amid the vastness of the world’s largest country. Just over a decade ago, Richard Davies, a British architectural photographer, struck out on a mission to record the fragile and poetic structures. Austerely beautiful and haunting, “Wooden Churches: Traveling in the Russian North” (White Sea Publishing; $132) is the result. Covering thousands of miles, Mr. Davies described how he and the writer Matilda Moreton tracked down the survivors from among the thousands of onion-domed structures built after Prince Vladimir converted to Christianity in 988.